omen of magic's lies and tricks,
on the horizon sits mirage.
dark, hateful snare of djinnis six
lain to short beggars' pilgrim haj.
~ Trials of the Sah'arah
I woke up today at ten p.m. I had not slept that far past dusk in four months. I had dreamed constantly about the dune I was to climb that night, and could not put the thought of it out of my mind for a second even after having wakened. It was to be a long climb, but as I wrote yesterday, I had the time, and so I began scaling it as soon as I could make myself ready and rouse my camel.
I crested its peak just as dawn was breaking. My climb did not disappoint. Two things were apparent from that vantage point that were completely unknowable otherwise. The first is the reason for my riding in circles. Just in front of the dune was a ridge that stretched for miles straight as a spear. I had been following the base of this ridge for the last three days, believing that it ran true for its entire course. As it is, this is completely false. It does run straight for miles, but then starts to curl, imperceptibly at first but more aggressively later, back left towards the mountain dune. It actually is the shape of an oval, but its size is so large that a lone rider at night already tired by desert travel could never notice its slight curvature. So, that is the mystery solved.
It is however the second sight that surprised me more. Thirty five degrees to the right of the ridge, just visible upon the horizon in that early dawn light, was a break in the interminable continuity of the desert. It appeared to be the very thing I could not believe it was, for things too good to be true always are. It looked like only thirty miles lay between me and a lush, lifesaving oasis. I blinked my eyes. It still stood. Wiped my face. There, still, it was. Walked away then came back again. Nothing I did changed what it was I saw; there was an oasis sitting in a large depression in the land just two days’ ride from where I sat.
I sit here now atop this dune and deliberate. As I have said, things that are too good to be true always are. I have never heard of any oases in this part of the desert, and I begin to suspect that there is an evil at work. Why was I drawn so strongly to summit this dune? And, once on top, to discover both the reason for my failure and a means of escape? With a clear mind I remember that just but a few hours ago I had defied giving the desert its full reward, and now my mind is being drawn to abandon its newfound peace and take up again hope of delivery. Surely this is the work of those vile spirits, the Djinnis, who embody the heartless malevolence of the desert. I had said that I would not bow my knee, and this offence has brought the ire of the desert upon me! This oasis is nothing but a mirage sent to draw me out of peace and dignity into a shameful death.
Such were my thoughts as I set them down at dawn. I have slept all the day, and have awakened to a changed heart. Before, believing I had no fate but death, my goal was to preserve as much dignity as a man in my position might be able. Now, slim chance as it is, I do not know that I am sentenced to expire here. I will go to this oasis, shaking off all fear of what dangers should come. If I am to die, then it would be good to die well. But refusing to take my chance at life because I refuse to risk a better death is folly in the highest degree. I stand now, mount my ever faithful companion, and go. What befalls me befalls me, for I am a man living on borrowed time already, and I challenge these terrors of the desert to stay me.
August 13, 1531
Sahara Desert, Northern Africa
A lowly bedouin and his friend camel
on the horizon sits mirage.
dark, hateful snare of djinnis six
lain to short beggars' pilgrim haj.
~ Trials of the Sah'arah
I woke up today at ten p.m. I had not slept that far past dusk in four months. I had dreamed constantly about the dune I was to climb that night, and could not put the thought of it out of my mind for a second even after having wakened. It was to be a long climb, but as I wrote yesterday, I had the time, and so I began scaling it as soon as I could make myself ready and rouse my camel.
I crested its peak just as dawn was breaking. My climb did not disappoint. Two things were apparent from that vantage point that were completely unknowable otherwise. The first is the reason for my riding in circles. Just in front of the dune was a ridge that stretched for miles straight as a spear. I had been following the base of this ridge for the last three days, believing that it ran true for its entire course. As it is, this is completely false. It does run straight for miles, but then starts to curl, imperceptibly at first but more aggressively later, back left towards the mountain dune. It actually is the shape of an oval, but its size is so large that a lone rider at night already tired by desert travel could never notice its slight curvature. So, that is the mystery solved.
It is however the second sight that surprised me more. Thirty five degrees to the right of the ridge, just visible upon the horizon in that early dawn light, was a break in the interminable continuity of the desert. It appeared to be the very thing I could not believe it was, for things too good to be true always are. It looked like only thirty miles lay between me and a lush, lifesaving oasis. I blinked my eyes. It still stood. Wiped my face. There, still, it was. Walked away then came back again. Nothing I did changed what it was I saw; there was an oasis sitting in a large depression in the land just two days’ ride from where I sat.
I sit here now atop this dune and deliberate. As I have said, things that are too good to be true always are. I have never heard of any oases in this part of the desert, and I begin to suspect that there is an evil at work. Why was I drawn so strongly to summit this dune? And, once on top, to discover both the reason for my failure and a means of escape? With a clear mind I remember that just but a few hours ago I had defied giving the desert its full reward, and now my mind is being drawn to abandon its newfound peace and take up again hope of delivery. Surely this is the work of those vile spirits, the Djinnis, who embody the heartless malevolence of the desert. I had said that I would not bow my knee, and this offence has brought the ire of the desert upon me! This oasis is nothing but a mirage sent to draw me out of peace and dignity into a shameful death.
Such were my thoughts as I set them down at dawn. I have slept all the day, and have awakened to a changed heart. Before, believing I had no fate but death, my goal was to preserve as much dignity as a man in my position might be able. Now, slim chance as it is, I do not know that I am sentenced to expire here. I will go to this oasis, shaking off all fear of what dangers should come. If I am to die, then it would be good to die well. But refusing to take my chance at life because I refuse to risk a better death is folly in the highest degree. I stand now, mount my ever faithful companion, and go. What befalls me befalls me, for I am a man living on borrowed time already, and I challenge these terrors of the desert to stay me.
August 13, 1531
Sahara Desert, Northern Africa
A lowly bedouin and his friend camel
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